


Tradition

by Resa_Saso



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resa_Saso/pseuds/Resa_Saso
Summary: They had a tradition. The Master guessed it would have died with everything else their relationship had contained all these centuries ago, if it wasn’t for his own stubbornness in regards of upholding it. | Christmassy Doctor/Master fluff





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to all of you! <3

_This Christmas  
  
_

They had a tradition.  
  
The Master guessed it would have died with everything else their relationship had contained all these centuries ago, if it wasn’t for his own stubbornness in regards of upholding it.  
  
He liked tradition, he honoured tradition and so he would keep it.  
  
Not the dusty ones Gallifrey had created, not the ones that had once smothered him and his childhood friend until they had turned them both into mere schemes of themselves.  
  
The man who ran from cruelty and the man who became cruel so he wouldn’t have to run.  
  
No, but their tradition. The last, little bits that still tied him to the man who once loved him more than the stars. The kind of tradition that had kept him alive all these centuries, through every death, every hell, every torture, every lonely night.  
  
And so, through it all, their fights, their constant battles of light and darkness, the different ways they had found to hurt each other, he stood right here, fingers trembling in a way he would later blame on the freezing winter night that had befallen Earth.  
  
And knocked.  
  
Knocked on the blue police box, desperately hoping his old friend, enemy and lover was just as stubborn as he was.  
  
  
  
_First Christmas  
  
  
_

“Something needs to change, my son. You can’t go on like this. Your behaviour is blocking your own path. Is that what you want? Being some average Time Lord, stuck in a subordinate position?”  
  
“Father, please,” Theta sighed resigned. “Do we have to do this today? It’s Christmas.”  
  
“Christmas,” came the thundering answer. Again, the blonde boy sighed heavily. Ulysses had never been very enthusiastic about the traditions his wife has brought from her family. “Ridiculous. Do you have to start with this nonsense too, boy?”  
  
“Really, I just thought, what’s wrong with spending some time with family and just be ki…”  
  
“Only nonsense!” Ulysses interrupted his son dismissively. “That’s all you have in that head of yours. Nothing but nonsense.”  
  
Theta turned around to face his mother, but the woman only sat on their table, smiling at him saddened. With a sigh, he turned back to his father, trying one last offer of peace.  
  
“I’m sorry, father. I promise you, I’ll do better. Let’s just…”  
  
“Go upstairs,” his father commanded before he could even finish. “Learn for your exams. Don’t think you can take the weekend off, because of your mother’s idea of _Christmas_.”  
  
Theta stared at him for a few seconds, utterly shocked but hiding his expression away carefully. Then he shortly nodded and went upstairs. With a quick jump, he threw himself on his bed, head buried into his pillow to muffle his frustrated groan.  
  
“You know, I’m fairly sure it’s not the pillow’s fault,” came a soft voice from a dark corner of his room.   
  
With a start, Theta jumped off his bed, eyes wildly staring into the dark, until the words and the speaker’s voice actually got through to his conscience.   
  
“Koschei?” he asked into the dark, not sure if he should be amazed or irritated. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Koschei stepped in front of the window, and something about the way the moon lighted up his schemes was actually magical. He looked like a dark shadow, framed by light, like some creature of the night with sparkling, green eyes. It was beautiful and he was captivated, until Koschei’s answer snapped him out of it.  
  
“Climbed through your window. I’m sure you don’t mind, otherwise you’d have closed it.”  
  
“Right, how couldn’t I think of my classmates climbing through my bedroom window, my bad,” Theta replied with dropping sarcasm.  
  
He couldn’t see Koschei’s smirk but he knew it was going to be there and threw his pillow at it anyway.  
  
Koschei dodged his throw with perfect simplicity.  
  
“So,” he started like his conversation partner didn’t just try to hit him in the face with furniture. “Did I hear right? The thundering rage of Lord Ulysses rained down on you for wanting to have a break?”  
  
“It’s my own fault,” Theta muttered. “I shouldn’t have brought up Christmas.”  
  
Koschei stepped closer to him and let himself fall to the bed. For once, Theta was actually glad he hadn’t turned on lights in his room. At least his overly tidy – God, the fights they had had – friend wouldn’t see the mess he had just stepped foot into.  
  
“So, this Christmas thingy your mom has brought into your life,” he sighed with a little bit of indulgent amusement in his voice. “Tell me about it.”  
  
Theta stared at him, finally seeing his friend’s fine facial features more clearly, as his eyes slowly got used to the dark.  
  
Koschei had been mocking him whenever he brought up Christmas. Theta realised he must’ve looked quite sad, if his friend indulged in his quirks just to cheer him up.  
  
Good enough for him.  
  
“Actually, it’s a family thing!” he started enthusiastically, a sudden and bright grin on his face. “It’s all about tradition, you see? That’s why the first Christmas isn’t that special, but it gets special every year, because you always do the same things and it’s like the perfect ending of an era. And everything’s at peace on these days, people don’t fight or pick on each other, because that’s just how it is! And you decorate everything in warm and harmonic colours and exchange gifts. And Christmas Trees, they’re very important! Pines, actually. And they get decorated, too, you know! And…”  
  
He stopped, because Koschei’s face had curled up to a wide, amused grin and his eyes sparkled in that warm, mocking way they only ever did at him.  
  
He smiled shyly.  
  
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. My family isn’t joining, I have no decoration and I guess, the only tradition I’ll ever get is not celebrating Christmas.”  
  
“And what do you think, I’m here for?” Koschei asked with a smirk.  
  
Theta grinned cheekily. “Decoration?”  
  
“The best you’ll ever have,” his friend snorted, then shook his head with a smile. “How about I show you your door?”  
  
Even while taking Koschei’s hand and letting himself be led out of his bedroom window, Theta couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“You’re aware, the real door, you know, the sort where you don’t give yourself permission to enter, is downstairs?”  
  
“And you’re aware I couldn’t care less?” Koschei smirked back while carefully climbing down some branches of the big oak standing right in front of Theta’s window.   
  
The young boy rolled his eyes and followed his friend down in a way that was in equal measure adventurous as Koschei's was elegant. They were the perfect match, he thought when he reached the ground, spreading his arms and taking two bows, while Koschei faked enthusiastic applause for him.  
  
They didn’t get far. Ulysses collected them on the Oakhouse’s grounds, where Koschei had led him into his father’s forest, sitting underneath pines and finding all sorts of moss and pine cones to tune them up and singing cheesy Christmas Songs they made up themselves.  
  
They heard him shouting through the woods before he had even found them and with a frown, Koschei commented his father’s voice teaming up with Ulysses.  
  
“Typical,” he muttered. “My grades are excellent, he really could give me a break.”  
  
“Oh come on,” Theta giggled. “You and I both know you’re grades were way more excellent before I made you a troublemaker.”  
  
“You didn’t make me,” Koschei snorted. “I was born to be a troublemaker. You were just worth exposing my potential.”  
  
And while their father’s steps came closer – they could tell by the sounds of their heavy shoes creaking on the pine needles -, they sat down on a rock, silently watching a frozen creek not flowing, in perfect symmetry with how they felt in their lives.  
  
After a while, Theta said, “Can we make this a tradition?”, Koschei said, “Yes” and they kissed, underneath the branches of a pine.  
  
And even after hours of Ulysses shouting and rambling on, Theta couldn’t help but be happy about the fact, he hadn’t even have to tell his friend about mistletoes.  
  
  
  
_Another Christmas  
  
  
_

“You know,” the Doctor said after a while of them sitting back to back in the Master's prison bed, leaning on each other and quietly eating their Turkey. “You didn’t have to get yourself caught. We could’ve just celebrated how we used to.”  
  
The Master turned his head around, only a few seconds, to watch him quietly, then shrugged and turned back to his food. Christmas was about peace and not picking fights, he remembered Theta telling him so, but it still was a little difficult to fulfil, especially with this Doctor and his annoying friends from UNIT.  
  
“I wasn’t sure,” he finally admitted. “We haven’t exactly been in a good place lately.”  
  
“No, certainly not,” the Doctor snarled back in that usual arrogant way this Doctor wore like his frills.  
  
The Master sighed. Peace and harmony, he reminded himself. Hard to believe he was actually the one honouring that part of their tradition.  
  
The Doctor seemed to read his body language just right, because he laid a soothing smile on his lips and turned around just so the Master could see it.  
  
“It’s Christmas,” he explained. “No matter on which sides we’re standing, I’m always going to want to see you on Christmas.”  
  
The Master simply nodded, trying not to show too much relief. Relief was weakness, he reminded himself. And even when they were at peace now, they’d be enemies again later this week.  
  
“So,” the Doctor asked with a smirk. “I assume you’re already having plans to escape?”  
  
“Naturally so,” the Master replied. “And they’d all go to hell if I told you any of them.”  
  
The Doctor laughed and his whole body shook pleasantly next to the Master, making him feel every movement.  
  
It was funny. However arrogant and excessively annoying this Doctor could be, he enjoyed every little laughter, every little positive reaction he could get out of him, every word that wasn’t spoken in bitterness towards him. It was like his own little challenge and every time he won his hearts fluttered in content.  
  
“They’ll go to hell anyway.”  
  
The Master couldn’t help but snore. “You think your friends from UNIT can contain me?”  
  
“Hardly,” the Doctor gave back with an amused grin. “But you and I both know, as soon as you’re back in freedom, you’ll be running right back to me.”  
  
He didn’t want to smile, but it just came naturally. They looked at each other, both turned their heads, both a warm sparkle in their eyes they’d later deny – even if not as loud as they probably should.  
  
“Next time I’ll win,” the Master said, not meaning it.  
  
“That’d be terribly disappointing,” the Doctor replied calmly. “Because that’d mean we had to quit playing.”  
  
Someone hammered against the grated door from the outside, making the Doctor jump in shock. “Visit time’s over.”  
  
“Unbelievable,” the grumbled while putting aside his plate. “A disgrace, really.”  
  
The Master smirked. “Now you see what I have to put up with. It’s only fair I want to escape, don’t you think?”  
  
With a sigh, the Doctor stepped towards the door, ready to knock to have the guard open the door for him. “You know,” he said with a sly little smile. “I think you might be right.”  
  
He turned around to knock, but the Master’s voice stopped him in movement.  
  
“Doctor.”  
  
“Yes, old chap?” he asked, turning around one more time. The Master had now raised, too, an expectant smirk on his lips.  
  
“You forgot a part of our tradition.”  
  
He looked up intentionally and the Doctor followed his gaze.  
  
“Oh,” he said.  
  
Above them hung a huge mistletoe.  
  
The Doctor couldn’t help but wonder if the Master had personally hypnotised his guard to montage this monstrosity above their heads, while he locked lips with his old friend.

  
  
  
_Another Christmas  
  
  
  
_ “Listen, it’s not that I’m not up for it, I am, but I just can’t let you in.”  
  
“And why ever not, Doctor?” the Master hissed, annoyed at himself that he had gone over to the whisper tone the other Time Lord had suggested.  
  
“It’s Christmas!” the Doctor replied calmly. Staying calm was one of the greatest qualities of this Doctor’s body. Staying calm while the world was falling apart, staying calm while he came leering close to him, spitting him all kinds of threats in his face, staying calm while watching him burn.  
  
But not calm enough to drop the whisper, apparently.  
  
“Exactly!” the Master gave back in normal volume, while the Time Lord stepped out of his TARDIS and closed the door behind him cautiously. “So what is this about?”  
  
“Nyssa,” he explained with penetrating eyes. Cute _and_ fierce. If the Master was being honest, this body would be the end of him. “You stole her only family and now you’re wearing her father’s face. You expect me to bring you in on _Christmas_ of all days? I’m sorry, Master, but it’d hurt her too much.”  
  
The Master sighed, realising he was a little bit early in this Doctor's timeline. “Ridiculous. Unwanted fathers are part of the tradition, did you forget.”  
  
The Doctor smirked. “No. But this isn’t about us, Master.”  
  
“Fine,” he finally gave up, throwing his arms up in the air in dramatic resign. “So that’s it?”  
  
Instead of the Doctor giving him an annoyingly calm “Yes”, he suddenly felt soft lips on his, stealing all words he might’ve found and thrown at his friend’s – enemy’s – head.   
  
Instead he leaned into the kiss, breathlessly running his hands through the soft, blond hair and feeling at home for the first time in a very, very long time.  
  
Stupid human endorphins messing with his Time Lord brain since he stole this body.  
  
Stupid Doctor, messing with every single of his thoughts, feelings and life decisions since the day he’s met him.  
  
And stupid him, for loving every, exhausting, exhilarating part of it.  
  
“Here’s no mistletoe,” he murmured into the Doctor’s lips, not breaking the kiss.  
  
“Guess we’ll have to find one, then,” the Doctor whispered back, not breaking the kiss either.  
  
Together they stumbled to the Master’s TARDIS, into the Master’s bedroom, and into the Master’s bed, which was, indeed, a tiny little bit decorated.  
  
  
  
_Another Christmas  
  
  
_

“No,” the Master said determinedly, the grey hair shimmering in the light of the TARDIS shining down on them exhaustedly. “You listen to me, now. You’ve been working, running and battling all year. Give yourself a break.”  
  
“A break?” the Doctor replied absent-minded. “No. No. No times for breaks. It’s war, Master, I can’t just sit back and take a break.”  
  
“Why not?” the Time Lord yawned. “The Daleks will still want to destroy Gallifrey tomorrow. The Time Lords will still try to make you their soldier tomorrow. You might as well.”  
  
“One day,” he gave back tiredly. “One break and there might be no Gallifrey left.”  
  
The Master shrugged. “You’ve got a time machine, you could take a break and still…”  
  
“I’m part of the events,” the Doctor interrupted him in a tone that gave away his deep sadness. “You know I can’t. We’d…”  
  
“Oh, shut up, will you,” the Master replied, stepped behind him and gently started massaging his shoulders. The Doctor instantly relaxed in his grip, desperate to release some tension. “The Daleks cheat all the time, using our own technology against us in brutal ways. And you think you’ll screw the universe up with skipping one day?”  
  
Even while leaning back into the Master’s touch, the Doctor still opened his mouth to fight. With a sigh, the Time Lord tried other methods.  
  
“Hush. It’s Christmas. You owe me a day.”  
  
The Doctor frowned. “We’re right next to the Time Vortex, in a bubble of timelessness, in what way is it Christmas?”  
  
“I’ve decided it is, so it is,” the Master retorted defiantly.  
  
The Doctor laughed. It was a sound he had never heard from this body yet, and wasn’t that sad in itself? He decided he quite liked it.  
  
“Maybe…,” he finally said. “Maybe the universe can bend to your rules, for one Christmas night.”  
  
The shy smile the Doctor offered him was more than the Master’s hearts could take. It might as well could have been a puppy’s smile, he thought. All cute, affectionate and so utterly dedicated.  
  
He laid his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders, missing once more the beautiful locks he had exchanged for a basic, infuriatingly normal, short haircut.  
  
Exchanging playfulness and sweetness for the hair of a soldier. It was wrong, it wasn’t anything the Doctor should ever have to do.  
  
Carefully, as if he was worrying to break him, he drew the Doctor into a tight embrace.  
  
“You beat them back a hundred times,” he whispered into his ear, forever something only he and the Doctor would know of, forever the only kind of admission he would gift him. “You will do it again.”  
  
The man inside his arms buried his face on his chest, breathed deeply in, relaxed in his touch.  
  
“I might not,” he replied. “What then?”  
  
The Master stroke his hair gently, eyes constantly focussed on the only man he’s ever loved.  
  
“I don’t know,” he replied in all honestly. “But I’d love you the same.”  
  
It was the only promise he could give, the only promise that could overcome destruction on a Dalek’s fleet scale, that could overcome death, that could overcome loss and defeat. It was the only promise that remained.  
  
“Will you be there?” the Doctor silently asked. “When it’s all over, when we’ve either lost or made the others lose, will you be there, at Christmas, with me? Will I be there?”  
  
He was so lost, the Master felt actual tears in his eyes, when he pressed a soft kiss on the other Time Lord’s hair.  
  
“Nothing in this universe will stop me.”  
  
  
  
  
_Another Christmas  
  
  
  
  
_ “I have only one thing to tell to you…”  
  
“Shut up, I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t want to hear it,” the Master hissed back.  
  
The Doctor stared at him in surprise for a few seconds, then frowned. “No, not that, the other only thing I have to tell you.”  
  
Now, that got the Master’s attention. With a curious glance he looked up. The Doctor rolled his eyes, then grinned, “Merry Christmas, Master!”  
  
Oh.  
  
“It is?” He turned around, throwing a glance at his controls, checking Earth’s date and indeed, the Doctor had a point.  
  
Well, that was kind of irritating, really. There were two different battles raging in his chest. The desperate urge to be as cruel as he could be, torturing the Doctor and his friends with everything he held in his power and something else, something sweeter, only slowly finding its way back into his personality, having been gone and buried for so long, the Master actually forgot how to lock it away.  
  
The Doctor stared at him, seemingly waiting for a reaction he wasn’t going to get.  
  
“You’re not going to keep me in a _dog tent_ on Christmas Day, are you?” he finally grunted.  
  
The Master thought about this, he really did. Then he shrugged.  
  
“I could attach a mistletoe.”  
  
“Thanks,” the Doctor snared. “I’ll pass.”  
  
Well, the Master thought by himself. Traditions sucked anyway.  
  
Still, that evening, when his guards told him they had sighted Martha Jones, he threw a long, intense glance at the sleeping Doctor, double checking if he was really asleep, then let her get away.  
  
He was going to get her soon enough anyway, wasn’t he?  
  
With a slight little smile, something softer than all the mad grins he had carried across his leadership, he pressed a light little kiss on the Doctor’s cheek. He could almost smell the other’s nightmares. And for a while, he just sat down next to him, keeping them away as a guardian.  
  
It was enough if one of them was living in a constant nightmare.  
  
  
  
  
_Another Christmas  
  
  
  
_

“Will you finally let it go?”  
  
With a roll of her eyes, Missy turned around to face him.  
  
“Maybe, when you let _me_ go,” she retorted, not meaning it. They both knew had she really wanted to leave, she would’ve just left.  
  
So “You’re not getting a pony!” really _was_ the only adequate answer to her demands, she guessed.  
  
Not that knowing this would ever stop her teasing.  
  
“I’m lonely,” she replied sarcastically, in that sweet, innocent woman tone of voice he could look through easier than through his TARDIS windows. “A pony could help me contain my dark feelings of depression and destruction and make me less evil, you know!”  
  
“It’d be dead in a week, sacrificed for some evil demon sacrifice,” the Doctor replied dryly.  
  
Missy snorted. “I only did that _once_! Come on, it’s Christmas, it’s all about gifts, isn’t it?”  
  
He froze.  
  
“It used to be about everything else,” he gave back earnestly.  
  
Urgh, so he was in that kind of mood.  
  
She rolled her eyes yet again.  
  
“ ‘Course it is, stupid.” Her tone was more serious now, a tone nobody but him ever truly heard.   
  
He still stared at her for a few seconds, intently, then a little smile sneaked up on his face, giving him away.   
  
Missy leaned forwards in a rushed decision to kiss it away. Her whole room was decorated with mistletoes anyway, it was her good right, wasn’t it?  
  
He wasn’t a big kisser, this time around. But that was alright, because what he didn’t do in touches, he made up with everything else. His eyes seemed to glim for her and her only, his smile was so rare she actually felt honoured the second it appeared and the way he closed his eyes and simply dreamed away whenever she played the piano was more than enough to show her, he still loved her all the same.  
  
It was funny, in all their battles and fights, it had never even been in question, had it? She’d once been trapped inside a black hole, he had once spent more than billion years in his own confession dial and they both had known in all their time trying to get out, they loved each other, without even thinking it once.  
  
It was common knowledge. The suns rose, the stars shined, the Doctor and the Master loved each other.  
  
She suddenly smiled, she couldn’t help it.  
  
“Alright,” she gave up. “Forget the pony. How about we get out of here? One night? One tiny little planet to take me to? Maybe one with pines?”  
  
The Doctor sighed. “I guess… I guess the universe won’t end if I break the rules one day.”  
  
Missy didn’t feel the need to point out he basically broke every rule every day of his life, they both knew, even while they silently sneaked out of the Vault, right in front of Nardole’s eyes.   
  
  
  
  
_This Christmas  
  
  
  
_

The second the door opened, the Master’s nervousness fell off him.  
  
The Doctor smiled and stepped aside.  
  
He watched her with a curious expression, while he stepped in.  
  
“New haircut,” he finally said. “Like it.”  
  
She grinned.  
  
“Wait till ya hear the accent!”


End file.
